


The Line

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adult Content, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-21
Updated: 2006-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-02 14:37:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12728484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack is bored and disillusioned with his life and travels to Chicago for a new experience.





	The Line

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: Warnings: Adult language and situations.  


* * *

Jack O'Neill looked at himself in the mirror above the dresser in his hotel room. He ran his fingers through his hair, leaned forward to scrutinize his face, and ran his hands over his newly shaven skin. Satisfied that he looked as clean and well groomed as he could, he turned to walk over to his bed. He picked up his suit coat and shrugged into it.

He glanced around the room as he finished dressing. He loved staying at the Four Seasons, no matter what city he found himself in. The touches of luxury, of quiet elegance, of pampering, were all things he didn't have in his every day life. A life of military discipline at work, combined with a simple middle class existence at home, allowed him to splurge when he traveled. No guilt there, emotional or financial. 

The room was a well-appointed one. A plush blue carpet, silvery white walls, maple furniture, heavy blue and white brocade draperies, and a thick blue comforter set off the king sized bed that was piled high with plump pillows. 

Jack went to the window, opened it wide, and stood looking down from his twenty-fifth story room. In the morning, he would have a view of Lake Michigan. But now it was a Saturday night in Chicago. The city was alive with lights, movement, life. North Michigan Avenue, far below him, teemed with taxis, cars, pedestrians, all hurrying to the night's activities. 

He gave some thought to his own plans. A shiver of excitement ran down his back. It had been a long time. Too long. He was restless, keyed up, filled with anticipation. 

Turning his back on the window, he went to the desk and sat down, pulling the phone over to him. Quickly, before he changed his mind, he dialed Daniel's number at the loft back in the Springs. After four rings, Daniel's answering machine kicked in. "You have reached 555-7690. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone at the moment. Please leave a message at the beep." Jack almost hung up, but decided at the last minute to leave a message. 

After the beep, he spoke quickly. "Hey, Danny. It's me. I got in okay. Just wanted to let you know that everything is going fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye."

He replaced the phone in the cradle, lost in thought. He sat still, going over his plans for the evening in his mind. He smiled to himself. 

He got up and checked out his reflection in the mirror one last time. Not bad for an old guy. The pale gray dress tee under the trim black suit set off the silver in his hair. He remembered to take off his casual watch, replacing it with the sleek black and silver Movado that Daniel had given him for Christmas last year. Yup. Not bad at all. 

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He went quickly to the door and let in the room service waiter he had been expecting. 

"Your champagne and strawberries, sir. Shall I put the strawberries in your refrigerator?"

"Yes, please," Jack told him. He watched him put the strawberries in the mini bar fridge. He fished out a ten-dollar bill and handed the man the generous tip. 

"Thank you, Sir," the man said, and made his way out of the room. "Have a good evening."

Jack checked the champagne, making sure it was what he'd ordered and that it was packed with plenty of ice in the silver bucket. The table was covered with an impeccable white linen cloth. A small silver vase held six yellow tea roses. There were two crystal champagne flutes, two small white plates rimmed in silver, two silver place settings, and two linen napkins on the table. 

He walked over to the door. He took one last look back at the room, checking that the lighting was as he wanted to leave it, the table that held the champagne was situated where he wanted it, and that the curtains were still open at the window, showing the city lights outside. He walked back to the bedside table and pulled open the drawer. Yes, the condoms and lube were there where he'd left them. He didn't want to leave any of that to chance. Always good to double check.

He patted his pocket, making sure his room key was there. Satisfied that everything was as ready as he could make it, he turned and went out into the hall. He went to the elevator to go downstairs and get his evening started. 

He was smiling again.

* * *

= 

The bar in the Four Seasons was as elegant as the rest of the place. It was still early for a Saturday night in the city. Jack checked the Movado. It was only about 2000. He walked in and stopped to look the room over. A quick assessing scan showed him that it was nearly deserted. That suited him just fine. He knew lots more people would come in as the evening wore on. 

The bar was decorated in dark walnut, a red carpet on the floor, and elegant potted palms dotted the room. The small tables, each with four upholstered chairs, were decorated with red linen cloths, fresh flowers, and small lamps. Low lighting and soft jazzy background music completed the comfortable atmosphere. 

He took a seat at one of the tables, leaned back, and continued his survey of the place. Two of the tables had couples seated at them. The bar itself had two men seated in high stools, one at one end of the bar and one at the other. For the moment, Jack took no more notice of them. 

A pretty blond waitress came over to Jack with an attentive smile. She managed to keep her eyes on Jack's face even as he saw her assessing gaze. Checking out the old man, he laughed to himself. Keep looking, babe, he thought, I'm not the one you want.

"May I get you a drink, sir?"

He smiled up at her. "Sure. Bring me a double scotch on the rocks. Dewar's if you have it."

"Certainly, sir," she beamed at him. She turned and walked away. Within a couple of minutes, she was back with his drink. Still smiling, still checking him out, still as polite as ever. 

Jack thanked her, turning his attention to his drink. The first sip rolled back on his tongue, trailing liquid fire down his throat as he swallowed. He wanted to smack his lips, but decided that was a bit too gauche for the room. He already could feel himself start to relax. Now to wait.

Over the next half hour, many people, mostly couples, came and went. Jack nursed his drink, finally ordered a second. He was feeling pleasantly laid back. He knew he was waiting for the one. Not sure when or how he would find him, but in the past, he'd always known when the one had come into view. He had no doubt that he'd know this time too.

Back in the Springs, Daniel and he had been friends for seven years, lovers for two. Two long years, during which time much water had gone under the bridge. Or was that over the dam? He never could remember. They, along with Teal'c and Carter, had saved the fucking world, over and over. After too many missions to count, he and Daniel had gone home together, time after time, usually one or both of them in bandages, limping, having to be nursed back to health just so they could go out in a week or two and save the world all over again. He was tired. 

Jack was pushing fifty. Hard. He thought he still looked pretty good, for an old guy. But he'd seen them come and he'd seen them go. And lately he'd been restless, bored, keyed up, more sarcastic than usual, and unrelentingly horny. 

Daniel was well aware that Jack was having a hard time. No secret there. One didn't exactly have to be a psychiatrist to be able to tell when Jack O'Neill was feeling at odds with himself. He was only too happy to keep the whole world informed. Jack was even sick of listening to himself, as he voiced the same snarky, bitchy remarks and complaints over and over. 

What he needed was a new scene, a new experience or two. He needed to get laid. Always. And he would get laid tonight if it was the last thing he did. He hadn't been on the prowl for over two years. It felt perversely good to be back in the traces. 

He'd picked Chicago because that was where he had started life. And when you want to get a new lease on life, go back to your roots, that was his motto. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. A rolling stone gathers no moss. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. And never put off until tomorrow what you can do tonight. Or something like that.

He was smiling again.

* * *

When the man walked right by Jack's table on the way to the bar, Jack knew he was the one. Yup. He would do nicely. Short brown hair, tall, wide shoulders, slim hips, long legs, tight ass. Dressed in black pants and a black and white hounds tooth sport coat, a white tee under the coat. Jack hadn't seen his face yet, but if the face was anything like the body, he'd do just fine. Just fine. 

When asked if he wanted another drink, Jack switched to Coors Light. Another scotch and he might not be able to perform at his peak later, and that'd be a damn shame. 

Jack regarded the man's back. He was sitting on one of the tall stools at the bar. Jack watched him order. The bartender served him a glass of White Zinfandel. Not much of a drinker, whoever the guy was. 

When he served the wine, the bartender didn't seem in any hurry to go back to work. Jack watched the bartender's animated face, all interested eyes, leaning on his elbows, talking to his customer. Jack sat up a little taller. Maybe he couldn't afford to wait long to make his move. He didn't want to get hedged out by anyone else. After all, this was the one. He just knew it.

As he prepared to get up and go start the introductions, Jack saw one of the men at the end of the bar take notice of the newcomer. Jack reached for his wallet, his eyes never leaving the scene at the bar. The other guy was getting off his stool, walking over to the man in the hounds tooth jacket, sidling up on the stool beside him. The bartender took the hint and went away with a last backward glance. 

Jack took a twenty out of his wallet and slipped it onto the table for his drinks. It was decision time. The one he'd picked was already being moved in on. Now what? He watched them for a minute. For the first time, he saw the man's face, in profile, as he turned to speak to the one who had approached him. One thing Jack had was perfect 20/20 vision. And this guy was a looker. Jack's breath caught in his throat. Oh, yes. He would do nicely. 

As he watched, the man Jack wanted smiled, his face crinkling up in a pleasant way, deep dimples beside his mouth, small lines around his eyes. An interesting, intelligent face. Jack couldn't wait to see what color his eyes were, what his voice sounded like. He watched the two men start a conversation. 

Okay, it was now or never. And right now, never would never do. Yes. Jack got to his feet and started a casual stroll over to the bar. As he came up behind the men, he started to make out their words.

"Are your feet tired?" the interloper asked. 

Jack saw the handsome newcomer look around in some confusion, obviously wondering where that whacked out question had come from. He looked over at the man.

"What? No, why?"

The man leaned in, invading his personal space. He lowered his voice. "They should be. You've been running through my mind ever since I first saw you."

Jack came up behind the handsome man in the hounds tooth sport coat and slipped onto the bar stool on his other side. He'd heard better lines than that at his Sophomore Hop dance thirty years earlier. He was pleased to hear the handsome man beside him snort, his head turned away from Jack to look the other guy over.

In an incredulous voice, the man beside Jack said, "My God. What an awful line. Where'd you hear that one, in junior high?" 

Interloper Guy, as Jack now thought of him, ignored the question. Jack leaned around the man beside him to check out who would use such a lame line on someone who was such an obvious babe. Jack watched as Interloper Guy studied the handsome dude's face, assessing, judging, calculating. "Can I buy you another drink?"

The man beside Jack shook his head. "No, thanks. Listen." He looked up at Interloper Guy. "I'm just here looking for some peace and quiet. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks." 

That pleased Jack. He looked away, pretending to mind his own business. Yes! Get lost, buddy, he thought, this one is mine anyway, you don't have a snowball's chance in hell.

"Hey, come on," Interloper Guy persisted. "I could show you a good time. I know a great place. You like to dance?" 

Jack was squirming his ass around on the stool. He just wanted the guy to take off. 

Apparently the handsome man beside him felt the same way. "What part of no don't you understand?" He asked with an impatient edge to his voice.

For the first time, Jack made his presence known to both men. He leaned forward a bit, catching Interloper Guy's eye. 

Jack spoke up. "Hey. Buddy." He put his colonel face on, the one that made airmen the world over cringe and obey. Both men turned to look at Jack. Jack's gaze never broke its hold on Interloper's eyes. He kept his voice very low and very menacing. "You heard the man. He said no. Now get the fuck away from him. Go on. Get lost."

Interloper Guy was surprised, but no coward. He might not be smart, but he was determined. Jack had seen this look before. And he knew he was more than a match for it. He continued to stare the man down. Several seconds passed. 

The man in the middle glanced back and forth between his two would-be suitors. He snorted again. "What the hell is this? The mating ritual of two alpha males? Why don't BOTH of you get away from me?" He picked up his drink and started to move off his bar stool. Jack impulsively put out his hand and grasped his arm to stop him. 

"No. Wait. I'm sorry. Please don't go. That's not necessary." Jack still really hadn't looked fully into the face of the man, but he wanted him in the worst way. Just touching his arm, Jack's underwear was already getting tight. The man exuded a healthy masculinity that was giving Jack a head rush. He couldn't let him get pissed off. He couldn't lose this opportunity.

Jack leaned forward again and continued to stare the other man down. The stare was returned, but Jack was pleased to see the guy wavering in his resolve. The handsome stranger had told him emphatically no, and now here was Rover the Bulldog, come to his aid. Interloper Guy broke the glare he was giving Jack and looked at the man sitting between them. 

"Okay. Your loss," he said in an unpleasant tone. With a last dismissive glance, he slid off his stool and moved down the bar to where he had been sitting before.

The man beside Jack let out a long breath. He picked up his wine and took a drink. Jack glanced at him. He looked a little nervous. Jack wondered if maybe he was not used to so much attention. If all the poor man wanted was a drink, maybe Jack would be out of luck too. He sure hoped not. No one had piqued his interest like this guy in too long to remember. 

The bartender came over to Jack. "Get you a drink, sir?" The question was aimed at Jack, but the bartender's eyes were all over the other man.

Jack pointed at the white zinfandel. "Yeah. I'll have whatever he's having." He hated wine. It was God-awful. But if it helped break the ice, he'd drink sterno. 

After the bartender went away, the two men sat in silence, eyes straight ahead. When Jack's wine arrived, he took a sip, doing his best not to make a face. 

Finally he turned his head to look at the handsome profile beside him. His breath caught in his throat again. The man squirmed around in his seat, looking uncomfortably aware of Jack's scrutiny. 

Jack took a long breath. "So. Now that I'm here, what's your second wish?"

The man beside Jack smiled in spite of himself. A low rumble of laughter was followed by a shake of the head and glance at Jack. When his eyes met Jack's, however, the smile died away. They gazed at each other.

The man spoke quietly. "Hey. I wanted to tell you my second wish is for you to go away, but now I'm not so sure."

Jack's heart skipped a beat. His first good look at the wonderful face beside him confirmed that he had picked correctly. This was definitely the one. He could feel that he already had a connection with the man. 

Jack took in the handsome features. He was ruggedly masculine, with high cheekbones, a chiseled, angled jaw, thick eyebrows that showed every emotion, full lips that just begged to be kissed. At first, Jack couldn't take his eyes off the guy's mouth. But then it was his eyes that captivated him. Jack was looking into a pair of the warmest, most intelligent, most guileless brown eyes he had ever seen. 

Before he could think, Jack stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm Jack."

The man lifted his hand and grasped Jack's in a firm grip. His fingers were warm and slightly calloused. "David. Nice to meet ya." 

Jack nodded. He swallowed. Suddenly he had no spit in his mouth. He could not wrench his eyes away from the velvet chocolate depths of the ones gazing back at him. David smiled at him, a little grin that lit up his face. 

Jack opened his mouth to speak. Thought better of it, and snapped his jaws shut. Opened his mouth again. Shut it a second time.

David snickered a little. "You look like a fish. Got something to say?" He turned back to his wine and took a long drink. Slowly, he looked at Jack again. 

Jack nodded. At long last, he found his voice. "Yeah. You know what? I've heard it said that beauty is truth and truth beauty. If that's true, then man, you have never lied." He gave David a wry grin, letting him know that he realized what an awful line that was, but he just couldn't help himself. God, it was true.

David laughed. "What a terrible line. This seems to be my night. I haven't heard this many bad pick up lines since college."

Jack felt a warmth spread around inside him that was half alcohol fueled and half some kind of primal excitement. This David was everything he'd hoped for. Jack needed to forget his life for just one night. He needed one evening of no rules and regulations, no secrets, no danger, and especially no boredom. He needed this David. And he would have him. 

"You staying in the hotel?" Jack asked. 

David nodded. "You too?"

"Yep." 

God, this was awkward. All Jack wanted to do was get this guy to get up and come with him to his room. He decided to be honest. A gamble, but David had the kind of eyes that looked like they had seen a lot of reality, ones that knew the score, ones that knew what they liked when they saw it. And Jack took a gamble that David liked what he saw in Jack. He knew it sure worked the other way.

"Listen," Jack said in a low voice. "I'm from out of town. I'll only be here a couple of days. I like you. I think we could have a great time together. I'm just looking for some companionship. No strings, no hassles."

David looked at him with interest. Jack felt he already had his answer. Somehow the way had already been paved for him, and now all Jack had to do was step into it and take David along. 

David gave him a sympathetic look, the brown eyes warm and caring. He decided not to make Jack ask. He took control of the situation. "Let's go."

Jack blinked at him. Go? He hadn't even made his proposition yet. Go?

David said, "You got a room here at the hotel, right?" Jack nodded. David slid his ass off the barstool. He put his hand on Jack's upper arm and leaned in to speak quietly into his ear. "Tell ya what. Pay for my drink. Let's go have some fun together. I can't stand any more bad lines tonight, though, so as little conversation as possible, okay?"

Jack gulped, well aware that he was looking like a fish again. God. Okay. He got his wallet out again, dropped a twenty on the bar, and stood up beside David. 

David was almost as tall as him, broad in the shoulders, and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He could have had anybody, and it was blowing Jack away that he'd said yes to him of the silver hair and lined face and creaky knees. Holy shit. Jack had a hard on that was killing him. He literally wondered how he was going to be able to walk.

David smirked at him, his chocolate eyes full of good humor. "Close your mouth. You're drooling. It's not really attractive. What the hell, did you think I'd tell you to get lost, like I did that other dude?"

Jack made an effort to take a step or two towards the door. He was also making an effort to get his raging hormones to back off. He made himself think about one of Carter's long-winded techie lectures. He thought about mowing his lawn. He thought about the meatloaf in the commissary. God. It was no use. David was following him, so close behind him Jack could feel his chest on the back of his arm.

Jack glanced back at David and gave him a nervous smile. "Been a while since I've done this," he murmured. "I'm just feeling a bit rusty. Sorry about the drool."

David didn't answer. He put his hand on Jack's elbow and started to propel him out of the room. No conversation. Enough was enough.

Jack was smiling again.

* * *

They were silent in the elevator. Both men kept their eyes on the line of floor numbers above the elevator doors. David knew Jack's room was on the twenty-fifth floor, since that was the number he'd punched in. They watched the numbers flash by as the elevator brought them upstairs, pretending that they were the most fascinating things they'd ever seen. When the doors swooshed open, they stepped into the silent hallway together. David let Jack lead, since he knew where the room was. 

Jack used his pass card to get them in. The room was as he had left it. Only two small lamps lit up the darkness, one on each side of the huge bed. 

He closed and bolted the door behind them. He and David stared at each other. The moment had arrived. Jack was so turned on, he felt like nine tenths of his blood supply was in his groin. This guy was perfect, the man of his dreams. Everything he'd hoped for in this trip was becoming a reality, and he felt like the proverbial cat after the canary had disappeared from his cage. Jack wanted to escape his cage, too. And this David was just the man to help him.

"Champagne?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer, Jack slipped his suit coat off, dropped it on the dresser, and went to open the bottle. He glanced over at David. "Take your coat off. Get comfortable."

Jack worked at opening the champagne bottle with fumbling fingers. He couldn't seem to feel his hands. He couldn't seem to think. He couldn't seem to string two brain cells together enough to even try to talk to David. God. He must have oxygen deprivation in his brain. Lack of blood supply will do that to a guy. 

David slipped his coat off. Seeing Jack's trouble with the bottle, he stepped over to help him. He took the bottle away from him. Jack was only too glad to give up on what was an impossible chore anyway. 

The champagne opened with a pop and Jack held out the flutes for David to fill. He handed one to David, and they stood looking into each other's eyes. They clinked their glasses together. Wordlessly, with a raise of their eyebrows, they each drank down the entire contents of their glasses. 

Putting his glass down, Jack reached to take David's and put his down too. 

"I like to kiss," he said softly. "You?"

David stepped nearer. His eyes were locked onto Jack's. "Mmm." A small nod of agreement. Yeah. 

Jack reached for him and David moved right into his arms, slipping his own around Jack's waist. He lifted his lips to Jack's face, the beautiful brown eyes closing in anticipated pleasure. Jack moved his head down a bit and fit his lips onto David's. Their kiss was chaste, warm, exploratory. A strong shiver ran right through Jack. 

Placing his hands on either side of David's head, he bit gently at his full, pliant lips, enjoying the softness, the movement in response to his touch, the easy, quiet way of the man. Jack whimpered in his throat. He needed more and eagerly opened his mouth at the first inquisitive touch of David's tongue.

They stood for several minutes, exploring each other's mouths, raining kisses on throats, ears, cheeks, eyes, allowing their hands to wander and explore each other's bodies. 

At last David stepped back, putting a tiny bit of distance between them. He kicked off his shoes. Hands on his own belt, he looked Jack in the eye. "You like kissing, you said. You can see I do too. But you know what?" He had his belt undone and was working on the button and zipper of his trousers. "I like fucking even more. Let's get it on."

Jack was smiling again.

* * *

When Jack woke up, he wondered for a moment where he was. Oh, yeah. Chicago. Nice room at the Four Seasons. He moved his legs and stretched a little. He looked at the bedside clock. It was after midnight. A soft snore to his left reminded him that he was not alone. He turned his head to look at his beautiful companion.

The man had been everything Jack had hoped for. He had absolutely taken charge, and Jack had let him lead, thrilled to the tips of his toes with every single thing that had happened between them. They both had had two mind-blowing orgasms. And when the man had said he liked fucking, he hadn't been kidding. Giving or receiving, he had excelled at both. 

Jack felt warm, satiated, and sore all over. He doubted he'd be walking straight or sitting on hard chairs for a day or two, but that was more than okay with him. He'd been well and truly fucked, had forgotten every detail of his every day life for a while, and was feeling pretty sure of himself. All good things come to those who wait and all that. This guy had certainly been a good thing, and he hadn't even made Jack wait that long.

With a last look at his sleeping bed partner, Jack slipped out of bed. He padded over to the mini bar and got the bowl of strawberries out. He uncovered the bowl and popped a berry into his mouth, feeling the cold sweet juice run down his throat. He ate three more while he stood there. He picked out two of the biggest, juiciest looking strawberries and dropped one in each of the champagne flutes. He poured champagne over them, filling the flutes almost to the rim. 

He carried the champagne over to the bed and went around to his friend's side of the bed. He put the glasses down on the bedside table and then leaned over the sleeping face, supporting his own weight on his hands on both sides of his pillow. He kissed the mouth, the cheek nearest him, and moved his lips down onto the long expanse of soft white throat. 

Finally the man stirred. When his eyes opened and Jack looked down into the incredible brown depths, he raised his arms to pull Jack down for another kiss. 

"Hey." Jack was rewarded with a soft smile.

"Hey, Daniel. It's Sunday already. I brought you some champagne and a strawberry. Here." He sat down beside Daniel and handed him his drink as Daniel sat up. 

They touched the rims of their glasses again and took a sip, the gaze of both pairs of brown eyes locked together. While Jack watched him, Daniel drained his champagne in two long gulps. Using one long, elegant finger, he fished the strawberry out of his glass. He turned it, looking at it, and took a bite. "Mmmm." Lifting his eyes, he held the rest of the strawberry out to Jack, and then pushed it between his lips. Jack sucked it into his mouth, sucking on Daniel's fingers too. 

Jack smiled, reaching out to caress his thumb along Daniel's jaw line. "Thanks for tonight, Danny. It was everything I'd hoped for. You are the greatest."

Daniel smirked at him. "And you, my love, are the biggest horn dog ever born," he told Jack in a matter-of-fact voice. He looked up at Jack through his eyelashes. "You had such a hard on down there at the bar, I had pity on you. And what the hell were those awful pick up lines? And the other guy, whoever he was, he used one too." Daniel laughed. "God, it was perfect, like we had rehearsed it or something. Like a bad sit-com on TV. And the look on your face when you told him to fuck off!" He grinned at Jack. "My hero!"

"And David?" Jack queried with a grin of his own. "David? Who the hell is David? We didn't agree on any David." 

Daniel shrugged and looked him over. He held his glass out to him. "Gimme some more champagne, will ya? And more strawberries. Bring the bowl over while you're at it."

Jack took Daniel's glass and got up to do his bidding, mindful of his sore ass. David/Daniel was a handful. No surprise there, of course. 

He brought the drink and berry bowl back to Daniel and gingerly sat down beside him again.

Daniel ate a couple of strawberries. "Oh." He looked up at Jack. He pointed at his own left eye. "We didn't talk about these either. I thought your own eyes were going to fall out of your head when you saw me in these contacts."

Jack grinned at him. "Well, all rightie then, stranger. Brown eyes it is. They did it up just right for me. I have no complaints about anything that happened tonight, believe me. You are a keeper, Doctor Jackson, and I don't mind telling you, I intend to. Keep you that is. Brown eyed or blue, it doesn't matter." 

Jack was smiling again. They both were.

~~finis~


End file.
